


No Perfect Solution

by littlewonder



Series: Otherfuckers [4]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Autism, Cardassian Culture, Dialogue Heavy, Eugenics Wars (Star Trek), Gen, Genetic Engineering, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 15:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18943615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlewonder/pseuds/littlewonder
Summary: Delia, staying aboard DS9 awaiting a reunion with Data, sits and talks with Julian Bashir, and later his boyfriend Garak, about topics ranging from autism to genetic engineering.





	No Perfect Solution

Delia Hardeck didn’t like the idea that others might want to change her. She had faced prejudice all her life for being different, and since she was a child she had struggled with the idea of changing certain things about herself. There was a time when she had wished she was different, just to shut them up; there were times when she thought she might be stronger if she could change; but there were also times when she didn’t want to change, when she wanted to be unabashedly herself, just to stick it to them all.

So when news of Data having installed and activated an emotion chip into his neural net reached her, it struck Delia with a mixture of happiness and anger. Happiness, because now he could experience the fullness of human emotion, which he had wanted so long, as well as being able be with her more fully. But she also felt anger that both he and everyone around him thought that it was necessary, that he wasn’t enough the way he was.

There were other emotions too, though they were less distinct. One was guilt at feeling as though the way he ordinarily loved her wasn’t enough. Another was fear that he really didn’t love her the same way she loved him, so that even with the emotion chip he would realise he didn’t want to be with her after all. But she put those aside; this was, after all, not about her. It was about him.

It wasn’t evident yet whether or not the emotion chip did change the nature of their relationship, however. That was at least part of the reason she wanted to meet him here, at this neutral station between their two locations. They both had a temporary leave of absence, and the closest Federation outpost to either of them was this one, Deep Space 9. He had a few friends here, but she knew no one. Despite this, she wasn’t about to let anyone steal Data away from her while they had this time together.

Deep Space Nine was a place, like Maravel, located deep within the Alpha Quadrant. It orbited a planet, Bajor, that while its indigenous population was at least more technologically advanced than Maravel's, its planet was also similarly packed with nature. The station above it, however, of Cardassian design, was anything but. It was stark, hard, and authoritative. It was the difference between the lab and the field.

She arrived early. Data had told her he wouldn’t be arriving for another two days. So that gave her the opportunity to take temporary quarters aboard the station and explore what was there.

She visited Quark’s Bar, the Replimat, Garak’s Clothiers, and a gauntlet of other shops. This was her time off from her work on Maravel, and she intended to treat it as a holiday. She had been so patient to meet Data up to this point, she could wait a little longer.

There were too many hours in the day to distract herself from the fact that Data wasn’t here yet. However, she made sure to keep herself as busy as she could.

A day before Data arrived at the station, she found herself at the Replimat. There, she spotted a man sitting alone and carried her tray over to his table.

“May I sit here?" she asked.

Brown eyes lifted to her, looking a little miserable. He nodded at her, then gestured to the seat across from him. She sat.

They ate in silence. He looked about, as though he too were waiting for someone.

“It can be like that sometimes,” she said.

He looked at her questioningly.

“Waiting for someone. Stressful when they’re not here. Gives you the jitters."

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

He spoke in a polite British accent. Coming from his dark-complexioned face, she was surprised. His voice was like a drop in a well, echoing through her head.

“He doesn’t arrive till tomorrow,” she answered. “But I haven’t seen him for a year, so a day is nothing."

Something in his eyes shifted. “Now I feel a bit better about my problems. The person I was looking for is someone I see every day. But now I fear we’re drifting apart. To be honest, it’s probably my fault; I haven’t given him enough of my time lately. There’s just been so much going on…”

“Well, it’s never too late to change that,” said Delia.

“He’s still on this station, yes?"

“Yes,” said the man. “He can’t really leave." 

Delia wanted to ask, but she restrained herself. “Your problems don’t sound so bad,” she said. “He’s here. You can always work it out, whether you start the conversation or he does. I haven’t been drifting from my partner. But it’s been pretty hard having him far away."

“You must really love him."

“Yeah,” she said, smiling as her eyes shifted away, “I do."

When she looked back at him, he avoided her eyes, as though he were looking around him for his companion again.

“You look pretty anxious. You must be pretty worried about your boyfriend."

“What?” he said, finally looking at her. "No. No, he’s not… what gave you that impression?"

“I don’t know much about people. It’s been a lifetime watching and learning about them from the way they act. You have pretty sad eyes, telling me that whoever this person is, being apart from them makes you miserable. So they must be important to you. I figure the most likely relationship to fill that role is a boyfriend."

He looked back at her in shock. “How could you possibly know our relationship is that intimate?"

“I’ve learned to recognise that look. I saw it in the mirror every morning for the past year. Full of loneliness, and longing. You don’t see it anywhere else but from intimate relationships."

“I’m sorry to hear you’ve been suffering, too."

“Hm,” Delia replied, not sure what else to say.

“Is that all you have to say? 'Hm'?"

"I’m not great at social cues. I couldn’t really think of how to respond to that. I’m not what you would call neurotypical. Like you."

The man’s expression reflected a certain displeasure at that comment.

“I’m sorry if you don’t like acknowledging we exist ―”

“No, it isn’t that,” he said. “But, what makes you think…"

“That you’re neurotypical? You must be. You aren’t particularly understanding about how we think and communicate."

The man looked down, deep in thought. “I suppose it’s been a long time… since I thought that way. As a child, my parents stole my mind from me. I guess it’s easy to forget… how I used to be."

"‘Stole’ your mind from you? A strange concept. You know, I only recently discovered that the term ‘emotionally constipated’ refers to people whose emotions never reach their face. I’ve been like that since I was a child! It made people think of me as cold or stupid, and I never knew why. I always thought they were the stupid ones, judging me solely by appearance! I can’t imagine ever forgetting about that, even if I’ve changed a lot since those days."

At first, the man looked back at her, stunned. Then he said, “I’ve changed a lot too. It doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what happened. But I’m me now, so it’s hard to remember the old way I used to think.

“When I was young, I was a lot different to what I am now. I was slow, people didn’t understand me, either. Least of all my parents. They made me change. So I get it."

“Wow. It’s so rare I meet someone who understands. Even if you aren’t the same. I mean, you look me in the eye and are still able to concentrate. I get sick of people assuming something’s wrong with me when I don’t look in people’s eyes. I have to constantly check myself sometimes to ensure I’m doing the right thing. But then I miss what they say. So what happened?"

“I was genetically engineered."

“Oh,” she said, not sure whether to be jealous or sympathetic. “I see."

“I don’t consider it a gift,” he said. “I’d much rather be like you; at least that way I’d know I had earned my place in the world. You are proof that I could’ve. You were right about me and Garak. Seeing the love in your eyes when I asked about your person, made me wonder about my own relationship to Garak. I don’t know if I feel that way for him or not, but it’s certainly possible. It isn’t as though what I feel for Garak is strictly platonic, but… I sometimes wonder. And as for your career, you seem to have done just as well as me."

“Well, not just as well."

“You’ve done as well as I could’ve hoped for. I’m jealous of you, honestly. You seem to be so put together. You know exactly how you feel. And I… I’m a little lost. I never really know where I stand with Garak. At some point, I think I just gave up. Yet I’m still drawn to him. It’s driving me a little crazy."  
“I’m not that put together,” said Delia, “but you’re right; at least I know where I stand with my partner. But if you want to know about Garak, why don’t you just ask him?”

“It’s not that easy. Garak doesn’t really believe in truth or easy answers. It’s endlessly frustrating."

“It sounds frustrating,” said Delia. “My partner and I are pretty straight-shooting. Our relationship is full of mutual discovery."

“Well, Garak and my relationship is full of mystery. Exciting at times, but full of uncertainty. Including about what our relationship even is."

“Seems isolating,” said Delia.

“That sounds about right,” said Julian. “Garak is a very dear friend… but sometimes he makes me feel so lonely! I just wish he’d talk to me ― honestly. At least tell me what we were. Instead of…"

“Oh, I see. It’s like that, is it?"

“Like what?"

"Complicated."

He flapped his mouth, caught between words. 

Eventually, he said, “I suppose so."

“Hm,” she said, seemingly at a loss for what else to say. “Well, it’s good to know I’ve been improving my social skills, at any rate. It’s sort of a lifetime struggle for people like me. But I nailed it, didn’t I?"

“People like you?"

"Autistic."

Something new came over his eyes: recognition. 

“Autistic,” he repeated. “And what do you do now?"

“I’m a xenopaleontologist."

“It really _is_ possible…” he said. “I always wondered what might have been possible had my parents not had me altered…”

“So that’s how they ‘stole your mind’, is it?"

“Hm,” he agreed. "Starfleet only discovered it a few months ago. Rather than booting me from the service, they sent my father to jail. I often wonder what would’ve become of me if they had left me to grow on my own.”

“You probably would’ve gotten there. It just would’ve taken longer, that’s all. Or at least, that’s what happened to me. What-if scenarios are always hard to know for sure. So, you were autistic too?"

“I was never officially diagnosed with anything, I was just slow. But as a doctor, in retrospect, I think there may have been something unusual about my mind. I’m not a specialist in neuroscience though, so I don’t have the authority to say what it was. But if I was autistic, that’d mean my parents were ableists as well as having given up on me. So that rather than dealing with the son they had, they altered me beyond recognition."

“I think many parents of autistics are like that; they just give up on the idea that their child will ever achieve much of anything. That’s what my parents did, anyway; they abandoned me to the system. At least your parents made an effort to allow you to achieve."

“The system?" he said. “The system is _set up to support_ the less fortunate."

“You’re right. They put me in an accommodation house, some place they didn’t have to deal with me. My parents loved me so little, that I wasn’t even worth their support. That accommodation house did more to support me than my own parents. It was they who helped me get to where I am now, even if they didn’t always agree with me on how to do that. But that doesn’t erase the fact that my parents abandoned me. They didn’t even try with me."

“They didn’t try with me either,” the man argued, “they cheated. It wasn’t me that was achieving, it was who they wanted me to be. You didn’t know them. They gave up on me just as surely as your parents gave up on you."

“It was you who achieved those things, you just had a little help, that’s all."

“By that logic, you could justify doing just about anything to win as having ‘a little help’. Including cheating."

"Well, I had to fight for everything I have in this world. I would’ve liked a little help back then, even if it was against the rules of a so-called society that didn’t want to so much as acknowledge me. Before they sent me away, I was berated unceasingly, called a burden. At least your parents tried to do something for you, even if it was… not the right thing. I’m not defending what they did ― if they were going to do what they did to you, they could’ve at least waited until you were old enough to consent ― but at least they tried to do something for you, to give you some kind of advantage."

“I didn’t want it,” he said, "I wanted their love. Whatever difficulty I had in school, I could’ve gotten through it somehow. They made me lie, about who I was. I had to learn to conform, just like you did, but I also had to carry this big secret around in my chest most of my life, and it terrified me. You were spared that, and you still succeeded. You don’t know what a gift that is."

“A _gift_?” said Delia, bitterness edging in the corners of her voice. “They abandoned me."

“I would’ve rather had my parents abandon me outright than act so self-righteous all the time, as though they did me some favour by changing me."

“I would’ve rather taken that condescension than been thrown out of my home. That’s a far heavier burden than carrying a secret. And you also made it despite that secret, didn’t you?"

For a moment, he considered her. “We shouldn’t compare our suffering. We both made it where we did despite it. Let’s just agree that we both suffered, and that there’s no perfect solution."

Delia took a breath, taking a moment to calm herself. She looked back at him sympathetically. “I have no doubt you have suffered. Not being believed in is a very painful experience to endure. But at least they gave you opportunity. I wish my parents had allowed me that. If they had, I’d have at least known they cared ―” 

“And at least you had the chance to fight, for your education and your career, for exactly what you wanted in life; my parents took that choice away from me. They designed practically my whole life."

“I suppose. Maybe I was jealous. You had everything handed to you on a platter. You had things so easy, so much easier. There were times I’ve often wondered, myself, what I would be if my parents had taken a chance on me the way yours did. They were willing to break the law for your well-being, as far as I can see. I wouldn’t be me, but maybe… I’d be a better me."

“You shouldn’t even think that,” he said. “You really want my life? You’d sacrifice everything you are for it? You’d be giving up something essential. Sometimes I mourn for the me that I lost. You should never wish to be something you’re not."

“I know,” said Delia. “But sometimes I can’t help it. Sometimes you just wish, or wonder, what would have happened if things had gone a different way. 

"When I was younger, I was raised to think that what I wasn’t good enough, and never could be. I was taught to be normal, to conform, but I never quite got there. It was exhausting. I hated being fake, and pretending to be someone else, but I thought that was the condition for existing in society. I learned to hate conformity, even as I continued to follow its rules.

"As a teenager, I had so much hate in my heart. Not just for my parents, but for the world at large. I hated when others conformed; I hated even more when I conformed. I got it into my head that no one could ever like the real me, so I shunned those around me. I told myself I was happy, being alone. But I wasn’t.

“Hiding, pretending to be something I’m not, I loathed it. I was so alone, and I blamed my parents for it more than anyone else. They should’ve supported me, but instead they betrayed me, in a way no parent ever should to their child. Children should be nurtured, supported, not forced to fight their own battles. So I longed for a way out, an easy solution. But there were no easy solutions. All I was given was these lessons to hate myself, and wish to be someone new."

“I’m so sorry to hear that. But it wouldn’t have been you."

“Are you, you?" asked Delia.

“I’m who I became."

“A better you."

“I should’ve been enough. But I wasn’t. If your parents had tried to genetically engineer you, they would’ve succeeded in taking away your identity. Instead, they left you intact. They hated you for it, but they allowed you to be yourself. Of course it was terrible what they did to you, and totally unforgiveable. But even though it was hard, you got one mercy that I didn’t. There is nothing wrong with you, no matter how it may seem at times. You’re still you."

“They changed you the way they wanted you changed,” said Delia, as though she only just realised it. "But if you’d had the choice, if you’d had the option to change yourself―” 

“I wouldn’t have."

“Not even to speed yourself up? To keep up with the normal kids?"

A pause. “I should’ve been―”

“But you weren’t. And you resented that. Still resent it."

"Yes."

“Just as I do."

He hesitated. “Being normal,” he said, weighing his words, “was never an option for me. Even given that option, I wouldn’t have taken it. I shouldn’t have been the one burdened to keep up. I would’ve gotten there eventually, if I’d just been given the chance to prove it. Perhaps that’s what attracts me to the frontier: a second chance, to prove myself."

“And a good job you’ve made of it,” said a Cardassian man, who approached the table. “My dear doctor,” he said, smiling at her companion. “I see you have taken advantage of the local company in my absence."

“Garak,” he said, caught in surprise. His eyes held some embarrassment, but he was smiling brightly.

Feeling inexplicably guilty, Delia stood. “If I’m interrupting, I can go somewhere else. I sense you two have things to talk about."

“N-no, you don’t have to―”

“Please, you don’t have to leave on my account,” agreed Garak.

Slowly, Delia lowered herself back into her seat.

“My parents had high expectations for me,” continued the doctor as she sat back down. “and they make these little excuses for themselves, for why they did it. Why they,” he informed Garak, “genetically engineered me. And in my head, I know they loved me too. But it never quite feels enough. I don’t think anything will ever make up for what they took from me. All I can try to do is make up for it in my own way."

Garak sat down between them. “I know exactly what you mean."

Delia looked between them. “We were just talking about how genetic engineering invariably is done to those disadvantaged in society. Are you saying you too were engineered?"

“There were certain things about me my father couldn’t change, even through engineering. I was still me, and that was simply not enough for him."

“That’s not an answer,” said Delia, “although it is a good point. You must understand, doctor, that you are still you, some version of you, no matter what your parents did to you."

“You can call me Julian,” he said. “And I am exactly what my parents wanted ―”

“Exactly? So you’re not estranged, you never fight, you respect and admire them ―”

“No, I wouldn’t exactly say ―”

“Exactly. You’re different, you have different values. You would never do to others what they did to you. You have the power to end the cycle."

“The cycle never ends. It’s in our culture, our society, our history. We push our children to be the best, whatever the cost. We were immigrants once, we had to contend with overwhelming odds, so it’s no wonder that culture developed. I mean, look at you. Do you ever wonder why you were abandoned instead of changed? You come from a different culture, one in which those who are different are vilified instead of redeemed. You come from a culture of bullies, all walking through life alone."

“That’s true,” said Delia. “I am subject to such a culture even now. I have been forced to walk alone my whole life, even when I didn’t think I could. Then I forced myself into the same line of thinking, the same trap, even while part of me fights against it. Our two cultures have an affect like that on us, although they each deal with undesirables like us in different ways. Our society doesn’t like the… mentally challenged. It threatens the narrative that everyone can do anything, because people still doubt us. So they try to make people forget us, either by correcting our faults or driving us away. They even push some people to such extremes as what your parents did to you, or what mine did to me."

“Mentally challenged, is that some kind of euphemism for disability?" said Garak.

“Yes, it is,” said Delia, “though your friend Julian won’t tell me what kind he is. Fair enough, he barely even knows me. It’s Delia, by the way. But I’m not too ashamed to admit I’m autistic."

“I’m not ashamed, I just ―” 

“You have no reason to be so defensive, my dear doctor,” said Garak. “You have every right to be secretive. In fact, it’s downright tactful of you."

“Fine,” said Bashir, “I was autistic. Before the engineering."

“I knew you knew; you had to have read the reports from that time by now, being a doctor,” said Delia. 

“The report didn’t suggest that it was an official diagnosis, but it did indicate that shortly after the doctor’s report, my parents arranged for travel to Adigeon Prime."

"Perhaps in some small part, you still are autistic: they didn’t change everything about you, did they? They eliminated the symptoms, but what if they missed something? Some inherent part of your personality, your understanding of social cues. Perhaps some part of the old you still shines through."

“What makes you say that?"

“The person I’m waiting for. When I met him, I discovered that the world made assumptions about him too, looked down on him, thought he was missing an essential part of being human. But it was right there, and it shined through. You remind me of him. So perhaps there’s hope."

Garak looked between the two of them. “Excuse me for interrupting,” he said, “but unless this person was genetically engineered, I believe you’ve wandered off the topic. I thought this was meant to be a friendly debate over whether or not genetic engineering affects the more disadvantaged people within a society. Instead, it seems to be of a more personal nature."

“It is a debate over that. It’s just of a more anecdotal nature, that’s all,” said Delia. “Not all debates can be from a purely intellectual standpoint because the topic is one that affects real people, and in this case we have a real victim of the practice right here.

"Julian was a disadvantaged child, and his parents did this thing to him. Took away his agency, who he was, left deep scars in him. No parent should do that to their child, and on one level I’m certainly glad that it didn’t happen to me. But the reason it was done to him was because he fell behind, because he was disadvantaged in society. That was the only reason. And who knows what might’ve become of him had they not done it? He might’ve become trapped in a society that didn’t want him, like I once was; he mightn’t be a doctor; he certainly wouldn’t be in Starfleet. They don’t bar autistics from the service but they certainly make it harder on us, as I found out. The Federation is a meritocracy, and for those who fail, life is meandering, people patronising. No one believes in you, and they keep you down. Imagine being trapped in that."

“I barely have to imagine it,” said Garak.

“You’re a skilled tailor, Garak,” said Julian.

“But I was once much more that,” he said.

“Right, you were a gardener,” said Julian, with a tone of humour to his voice.

“My point is,” said Delia, “there is a point to anecdotal arguments. They demonstrate the problem."

“Perhaps so,” said Garak, “but that doesn’t make such arguments reliable. Or necessary."

“Maybe you’re just too scared to put yourself at risk by telling your story,” said Delia. “That’s understandable. And maybe you’re right: it isn’t necessary. But it can be quite persuasive in certain circumstances."

“Then tell me your story,” said Garak. “Were you one of these trapped people? Did you escape?"

“That’s right, I did. I was living in secret, only allowed to be fully myself at my accommodation, but outside it I was often treated like a child. I learned how to hide, how to assume the façade of a neurotypical, at least half the time. I pursued my special interest on my own, away from prying eyes. But when it started to take over, I started dreaming of studying it at university. I eventually got the opportunity to study palaeontology there for four years, then at Starfleet Academy I studied xenopalaeontology for another three. I’ve worked as a xenopalaeontologist for Starfleet for the last several years. I did all this amongst bullying, surrounded by people who didn’t believe in me. I was told by many that I wasn’t smart enough, that I didn’t belong there. But none of this was particularly new to me, and there were still enough people that supported me and believed in me enough for me to believe in myself. Many don’t have my resilience, determination, and tenacity. They crumple. But I survived my parents, so I knew I could survive this."

“So you were strong, in the face of adversity. Although not, I admit, amongst the worst of circumstances, a daring achievement nonetheless."

Delia smiled. “Thank you, Garak."

“You should be proud,” agreed Julian. “You have succeeded in a very difficult job to get and to do, and you got there on your own."

“I wasn’t entirely on my own."

“But you did it. You decided on what you wanted and you achieved it."

“So did you."

"I was given the advantage to do it, I didn’t do it on my own terms. The problem with what my parents did, what you earlier said you wished for, is that it’s very eugenic. My parents didn’t want the son they got, they wanted someone they deemed to be better. And the problem with that, is that as soon as you start playing with eugenics, you start to become elitist, and xenophobic, and then this whole diverse Federation starts to tear itself apart, because you are creating an insulated, hateful society that tears itself apart the way it did during the Eugenics Wars. You get men like Khan, who believed he was superior to those who weren’t genetically engineered, and wanted to wipe them off the face of the map. But I grew up in the Federation, and I believe in it, and that is the absolute last thing I’d ever want for it."

“I’m definitely not supporting eugenics,” said Delia. "Perhaps I simply started thinking this way because I gave in to those people who’d always thought less of me. Perhaps it was a fantasy, once; I was suffering so much, and all I wanted was for things to be easier. So I came up with a scenario where it would be. I’m not in favour of the Eugenics Wars, and I think doing something to someone, especially something that would change them so drastically, without their consent, is a despicable thing to do.

"But I’ve been clinging to that fantasy for so long, I suppose I forgot the horrifying implications of it. I was too busy dreaming up a new world, one in which genetic engineering didn’t elicit so much fear; in which the law banning genetic engineering was less strict, and it was regulated so that candidates for it all had to consent, and receive background checks and training before they were able to receive the treatments, like they do on Trill before receiving a symbiote. One in which neurodivergents receive less grief over what they are, and truly receive equal opportunity. I suppose I’ve been walking around in that fantasy world, but I suppose that’s not what the world really is, so thank you. We should never forget what we are."

“Perhaps the world should be more like you imagined it,” said Julian. 

“But isn’t it interesting that, of all people, you are the one who woke her up from the fantasy in which she was living?” said Garak to Julian. “After all, isn’t it you who is so full of Federation dogma, and so idealistic in those beliefs, that you would rather live that fantasy than the cold, harsh realities that surround you? The real-world realities of her dream would probably not measure up to the fantasy, either. Whatever training they might conduct may well be designed to indoctrinate the candidate to Federation thinking, and thus allowing that oppressive regime to continue to cycle.”

“But I do believe that although the Federation may not be perfect, that doesn’t mean we should abandon its ideals. It still has noble intentions at heart."

“Ah, yes. _Noble intentions_ ,” said Garak. “The reality, however, is quite different. A fact you Federation types seem quite happy to ignore."

“If you think I’m the Federation’s pet, remember that I suffered that oppressive regime,” said Julian. “Don’t forget, they taught me to hide what I am, to be ashamed of it. They quashed any spark of arrogance I might’ve had about what I am."

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that."

“That was an act,” said Julian.

“Ah, you may have been taught to be ashamed of what you are, but since it came out that you were genetically modified, you haven’t stopped talking about it,” said Garak. “It is as if you’re being defiantly proud of what you are."

“Perhaps I am,” said Julian. “I’m making up for a lifetime in the…” He considered Garak for a moment. “In hiding. I’m certainly not the only person in history to act in such a way after having a long-held secret revealed."

“Perhaps in _human_ history,” said Garak. "I assure you, few such bold declarations of identity ever happened on Cardassia. It just isn’t done. Most people know that even in such circumstances, opening your mouth about such things isn’t wise."

“And I suppose these are secrets that are more Cardassian in nature."

“We Cardassians are not as unlike you as you would think."

“You just aren’t free."

“Freedom is overrated, my dear doctor. We are free enough. Our obligation to our people gives us pride, a global identity, and a sense of purpose. That is all the freedom we need."

“But it isn’t true freedom!"

“Says the man dedicated to Federation ideals, even to the sacrifice of his own identity. You and I are just alike,” said Garak.

For a moment, Julian looked at her with surprise on his face. “It seems Cardassians are far less concerned with identity and more concerned with society."

“As, I thought, was the intention of creating your Federation,” said Garak, "to cast out your petty differences in order to function cohesively as a society. But I suppose most of you are still all far too consumed with your own lives to reach that goal. A pity."

“At least our society no longer oppresses others in order to function,” said Julian. “Anyway, Delia, your job is all about diversity, isn’t it? So you should understand what I mean by genetic engineering sets a dangerous precedent for the diversity of life."

“I agree it sets a dangerous precedent in terms of eugenics. As for the results, I believe that under the right circumstances, it could add to the diversity of life, due to epigenetics. My research focuses primarily on ancient life, but one thing it does focus on is evolution. It could be that this is another stage in evolution, and that genetically engineered humans will become another kind of human existing in the universe, no matter what the original variety has to say about it. Not unlike _homo heidelbergensis_ evolving into Cro-Magnons and Neanderthals."

“Except that it’s illegal,” said Julian, “has been for centuries, and that hasn’t happened yet. Besides, I had no choice ―” 

“And I’m not defending what happened to you,” said Delia. “I think everyone should have a choice. I’m only saying that theoretically, in the long-run ―” 

“But there’s no evidence of any of that―” 

“I beg to differ, Doctor,” said Garak. “My own people did the same thing, and we did evolve superior intellectual capacity."

For a moment, Julian gawked. “Are you saying that your entire people are made up of… Augments?” asked Julian.

“Well, aside from a few outside groups… the Hebitians, for example…"

“No wonder your kind are so xenophobic…"

“And so self-assured of your own superiority,” added Delia.

“Oh, and I suppose you Federation types are any better?” said Garak. “Too busy being self-righteous to realise that your society is putting itself at a disadvantage. So afraid of overly ambitious individuals that they don’t utilise their best assets. Instead, they’d rather shame you from existence."

Julian gave Garak reproachful eyes, but he had a soft smile on his face.

“That’s true,” said Delia, turning to Julian. “You are not ambitious in the same way Khan was; you want to save lives, and that kind of ambition is admirable. I might even go so far as to say it’s everything the Federation stands for. The circumstances of your genetic enhancement isn’t even the same as Khan’s; you didn’t undertake it willingly in order to take over the world, your parents decided on it for you in order to allow you to succeed in life, however misguided that was. Yet the Federation can’t even see that, because of their ‘one size fits all’ Khan firewall.

“I know it can be confronting growing up different in the Federation; they may accept more of your humanity now, but there are still conditions for your place here, and I know how unfair that is, but the Federation is hardly unique in that. Every society wants its citizens to follow its rules, share its ideals, and uphold the structures that enable its survival. Every society has its marginalized, and although the Federation’s marginalized is fewer than most, we still exist. 

"Perhaps you’ve heard terms like ‘freak’ or ‘monster,’ or even ‘unnatural,’ but let me tell you: there is nothing wrong with being unnatural. Augments, androids, even the computers and devices the Federation relies on aren’t natural, yet none of them are inherently bad. As a matter of fact, I have a major problem with anyone who would call anyone or anything inherently bad.

"You are okay, Julian, just as you are. If there’s anyone in the Federation who denies it, I would like to remind them that Khan was a product of his time, to inform them that Augments should be taken on an individual basis, and that there is little reason to fear such an extreme case in this day and age."

“But it isn’t as though it’s impossible,” said Julian. 

“Another Khan could always slip through."

“True, but it’s highly unlikely, with how paranoid the Federation is about it,” said Delia. “They act almost as if the Eugenics Wars never ended. As if the world, or the universe, is filled with conspirators set to tear their world apart again."

“They may well be,” said Garak. “The universe didn’t suddenly get more civilized because the Federation evolved. It is still full of enemies."

“The Federation is surrounded by enemies outside itself,” said Julian. “It makes sense if they couldn’t handle fighting internally as well."

“Oh, it’s understandable,” said Delia. “The problem is, the threat is a shadow of what it once was, and I absolutely understand wanting security, but take it too far and that paranoia leads to restricted freedoms and oppressive rule."

“The Federation stands for diversity and co-operation ―"

“But look at what sides they take,” said Delia, “and you start to understand what our values truly are. It’s good to say what our ideals are, but often the organisations set up to uphold them don’t quite get there. They may have signed a diversity of aliens to the Federation, but they have also sided with the Cardassians over the Maquis, made up of its own citizens."

“Cardassia has a right to defend its territories,” said Garak.

“Not helpful, Garak,” said Delia.

“Cardassia’s territories were all originally stolen,” said Julian.

“ _Really_ not helping,” said Delia. “The point is, what was once a legitimate security concern has devolved through the centuries into its own kind of xenophobia. ‘Unnatural’ has become a dirty word. They can deny it all they want, and they do, but it’s there. So you really have nothing to be ashamed of. It isn’t you who’s the freak, it’s them."

Julian looked at her in astonishment.

“I suppose that might be a kind of shock for a xenophile to hear, that the organisation he serves actually has xenophobia running through it…” Delia began, nervous at the sight of his expression.

“What makes you think I’m a xenophile?” asked Julian.

Delia’s gaze shifted for a moment to Garak. She looked back at Julian. “Friends with a Cardassian on a Bajoran station? You must be."

Julian blushed as Garak looked at him. “You may be right,” confessed Julian.

Garak looked moved. Julian did a double-take at the look on his face. “No, I ― I don’t mean ―”

As Garak raised his eye ridge in disbelief, Julian babbled even faster.

“No, no, I mean I like you ― we’re friends ― I don’t, I mean… I’ve always been a bit strange myself, so I’ve learned to embrace those like me, who are different as well. I feel a comfort in the alien, the unusual, the foreign, such as you, such as Leeta, such as anyone who is apart from the norm. Even you, Delia."

“Geez, thanks."

“No, no, I mean no disrespect," said Julian, "I love ― I mean, I think you’re great. Autism, that’s something that sets you apart from the crowd, and you certainly have your own opinions about it, and I love that. I love talking to you about it, discussing the finer points about what sets us apart."

“I suppose that’s as good of a rationale as any for our many chats over Human and Cardassian literature,” said Garak. “A bridging of our cultures, a mutual understanding of each others’ foreignness."

“Except in this case, it’s more a mutual understanding of our similarities than our differences,” said Julian, “but yes. I quite enjoy our chats. What I meant is what sets us apart from the others."

“So you see, you are a xenophile," said Delia.

“So what if I am?” said Julian. “What’s your point?"

“My point is,” said Delia, “you are a xenophile for probably very similar reasons as I am: we were treated wrongly for being different, and we would do anything not to pass that on. We would be defiantly empathetic to anyone who was in any way different. We would celebrate that difference, and make sure there’s as little suffering for people like us as possible. We would take away that pain."

For a moment, Julian just stared at her. 

“You’re right,” he said. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s why I’m here. It’s why I wanted to come to the frontier, it’s why almost everyone I’ve been attracted to has been an alien, it’s why I even do this job in the first place. I mean, what even is normal? I don’t have it out for anyone who fits in to their society, but more than anyone else, I do this job to save everyone, even people like me. It’s what my whole life is about!"

His voice had risen to just below a shout, and now he looked around at Delia and Garak.

Delia covered his hand with her own. “That’s why I like you, Julian. You have a kind heart. In truth, I think I like anyone with a kind heart, given my history."

“You mean, given how you were treated?"

"Yes."

“I’m sorry that happened to you."

“That’s alright. My situation has improved since. But if you want to be my friend, I’d be open to that. I still don’t have very many."

"Yes, actually I think I would."

“Good. We should keep in touch. But in the meantime, I…” She looked down to her cleared plate of food. “I am rather full."

“Maybe we can talk tomorrow,” Julian suggested.

“Tomorrow I’m catching up with an old friend. Perhaps the day after. The three of us ― the four if Garak wants to join us ― can make a night of it."

Julian smiled, and looked for a moment at Garak. He smiled back.

“We’d love to,” Julian said, turning back to Delia.

At the pointed look Garak was giving him, Julian looked a little bit sheepish, but he refused to back down.

“Very well,” Garak agreed tentatively.

“We’ll meet back here. Quieter than Quark’s, from what I’ve seen, and a tad more intimate. We can talk more freely here."

“See you tomorrow night,” said Julian.

“See you,” said Garak.

At that word, Delia stood, picked up her tray and left the table.


End file.
